Impossible
by Lutralutra
Summary: Doujou thinks that Komaki is getting to be a bit too much of a matchmaker, Tezuka and Shibasaki are getting a bit too cozy, and social events are getting a bit too hectic. He also thinks that Kasahara looks nice tonight. DoujouxKasahara.


Just a humorous oneshot I've been working on sporadically over the past week or two. I can't seem to stop writing Toshokan Sensou fanfiction now that there's a category for it. Besides, I couldn't neglect DoujouxKasahara (how can anyone not see, and love, this pairing?).

Warnings: _very _mild coarse language (one word, I think?), some sexuality.

Disclaimer: Library War/Toshokan Sensou is not mine.

* * *

**Impossible **

Kasahara Iku fidgeted in her chair, her fingers stilling on the keyboard. Lieutenant Doujou, seated behind her tapping diligently away, glanced briefly back at her, but she took no notice of him. Rather, she was staring hard at Tezuka, a few chairs down, her nut-brown eyes narrowed.

Doujou opened his mouth to give her a sharp reminder to get back to work, then jerked in surprise when she stood abruptly, chair squeaking rudely. His gaze followed up her slim but sturdy build to her frowning face (Boy, she's _tall_, he thought), and he barely avoided an elbow to the cheek as she placed her hands firmly on her hips and marched down the aisle of computers.

"Tezuka!" she said demandingly, stopping behind her co-worker. Tezuka paused in his work, then swivelled around to give her his full attention, keeping his expression carefully blank.

Kasahara didn't waste time getting to the point. "Are you taking Shibasaki to the Kanto Library Gala tomorrow night?" The Kanto Library Gala was an annual formal event that involved refreshments and dancing and was open to Kanto Library staff, their friends and family and a number of specially invited guests. Its main function was to gather together the library workers and those who fought against the media censorship for a night of relaxation and socializing.

"Yes," Tezuka replied bluntly. It was as expected; he and Shibasaki, Kasahara's room mate, had been dating for a month now, in a light way - just a few lunches and dinners here and there, nothing fancy.

Kasahara was slightly taken aback by his ready response. _Jerk, he's just gonna admit it like that, like it's no big deal?? _ Then, after short consideration, she realized that honesty wasn't exactly a characteristic of jerks. But she was on a mission, so she didn't let it put her off. "Right, in that case, I'm warning you now. If you try anything funny with her, I'll kick your ass!"

The computer lab fell into total silence.

_Oops. _She hadn't actually meant to say "ass" out loud like that. Tezuka looked rather bemused, Doujou was giving her a harsh stare of disapproval, and Komaki was stifling his chuckles. The lab's other employees were watching in anticipation, perhaps hoping for a confrontation between feisty female Kasahara Iku and genius boy Tezuka Hikaru.

They weren't about to get one, however. Tezuka, one eyebrow raised, spoke up slowly, "That is...reasonable."

Kasahara's face was aflame. "Well, if you understand, that's good then," she finished, lowering her voice a little. "But remember what I said!" she added blusteringly. She spun on her heel, stopped suddenly, then whirled back and pointed her finger accusingly at him. "And you'd better not be asking her out for any pathetic reason like she _piqued _your _interest _since someonesaid you could _learn_ a thing or two from her!"

At that, at least half of the room's occupants burst out laughing (while Doujou coughed awkwardly). Trying to keep her dignity, Kasahara plunked herself back down in her spot, and proceeded to put her head in her hands. _How embarrassing was that? Why didn't I pick a more private place to do it? _

She was afraid to look up among the guffaws and mutters, but the amused noises were overridden by Doujou barking, "Back to work, everyone!" Surprised at his interference, she was feeling quite thankful towards him until he continued, "That means you, too, Kasahara! And no shows in the workplace next time. Besides that, watch your language!"

This only served to further her mortification (why did he always _do _that to her?!), and she quickly straightened in her seat, turning her back on him stiffly and glowering abashedly at her computer screen.

When the work finally stopped for lunch break, Komaki leaned over and inquired casually, "So, will you be attending the gala as well, Kasahara?" Doujou, listening in, gave him a suspicious glance.

"Oh? Yeah," she replied, surprised at being asked. "Yes, I am." She studiously ignored Doujou as she got up and left the lab, and his eyes trailed her out the door.

"Doujou," Komaki said in an undertone, "this is your big chance."

Doujou's gaze snapped away from Kasahara immediately, and he hissed, "Shut up. I don't know what you're talking about." He busied himself with organizing some papers lying on the desk.

But, Komaki noted duly with a little smile, the light blush that graced the officer's face seemed to be fairly well informed.

* * *

Kasahara hopped energetically out onto the pavement, forgetting that she was wearing stilettos, and had to perform a kind of clumsy jig on the sidewalk to regain her scattered balance. Shibasaki, perfectly at ease in her own stylish black high heels, merely sighed, leaning into the taxi to pay the driver.

"I shouldn't have worn these things," Kasahara groaned, wincing as her ankle jimmied from side to side on its flimsy support. She ran a frustrated hand through her cropped mouse-brown hair, styled the same way as always since there wasn't really much you could do with hair so short and straight, and adjusted the straps on her olive green dress. It had a fancy corset-like assortment of crisscrossing lace in the back, which fortunately was just there for show and didn't need to be tied.

"You're probably right about that," Shibasaki agreed blandly. "You certainly don't need them for height purposes, and with your clumsiness, they're practically a disaster waiting to happen."

"Hey!" Kasahara protested hotly. "You don't have to be so blunt about it!"

The discussion was postponed by the approach of males, namely Doujou, Komaki and Tezuka. Tezuka, looking smart and stiff in his tuxedo, nodded to Shibasaki, who graciously inclined her head in return and took his proffered arm, her deep red gown swishing regally around her legs. Kasahara hoped they weren't giving out a "Best Couple" award at this thing - just one glance from the judges and Shibasaki and Tezuka were sure to win it.

Komaki seemed to be thinking something along the same lines, because he remarked smilingly, "What a lovely couple you two make."

Tezuka's expression became even stiffer, if that were possible, but he showed no other signs of embarrassment, and Shibasaki took the compliment in stride with a queenly smile and a smooth, "Oh, thank you, Komaki-san."

_Whaaaat? _Kasahara raged internally. _Not even a blush? How do they _do _that? _

Doujou cleared his throat. "Are we going in, then?" he asked curtly.

Shibasaki and Tezuka swept in first, with Komaki and Doujou behind, slowing their pace to accompany Kasahara, who was moving somewhat gingerly. "If you can't _walk _in them, why wear them?" Doujou demanded irritably.

"Because!" Kasahara snapped defensively, eloquently making her case.

"Now, now," Komaki said peaceably, as if he were calming down squabbling children, "let's all have fun tonight, shall we?"

"You already seem to be having fun," Doujou muttered crossly, glaring daggers at Komaki's ever-present, slightly teasing smile.

"Yeah, laughing at _us!_" Kasahara growled.

"I'm terribly sorry," Komaki apologized easily. "It's just that, well, mingling you two always gets quite the reaction, doesn't it?" He chuckled. "In any case, I seem to be annoying you, so I'll just slip ahead." They had now proceeded into the gymnasium/ballroom area set up for the gala, and Komaki quickened his pace and melted effortlessly into the clusters of guests.

"Uh...hey!" Kasahara called after him. This wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind - alone with Doujou, in a ballroom, wearing heels and a girly dress. Doujou, she noticed, was wearing a tuxedo somewhat like Tezuka's, but less glossy. It looked strange on him, different from his usual officer uniform, but not in an entirely bad way.

"...Do you want a drink?" Doujou asked at length, giving her a quizzical look but not completely meeting her eyes.

"Oh! Yes. I mean, sure. I'm thirsty. So, um, drinks - I'll go, er find them, then. Somewhere..." she babbled. Trying to quell a ferocious blush, she turned quickly and scurried off in the pursuit of refreshments. It was actually easier to move in heels when she was less aware that she was wearing them, and she only almost tripped twice before locating the bar counter and ordering two champagnes.

She let out a muffled shriek when she turned to see Doujou standing right next to her. "Wh...what are you doing here?"

He frowned. "Getting a drink, same as you are."

"W-well, yes, but..." She gave up trying to make sense of her flustered thoughts and drained her glass of champagne in one loud gulp. Doujou raised one eyebrow and took a sip of his own.

Now that she'd finished her drink, she had nothing to do but fiddle with her glass as Doujou drank slowly, standing next to her. She tried to pretend he wasn't there, but her eyes were glued to him in a sidelong stare. She watched his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed, his dark hair glistening, combed down more neatly than usual for the occasion. Sipping champagne like that, all dressed up, he seemed sort of...sophisticated. And not so short anymore.

She jumped when she found herself suddenly addressed. "Excuse me." She looked up - wow, he was taller than she was, she actually had to look up - to see a young man smiling down at her. He had nice eyes. "Would you care to dance?"

Her mouth fell open a little ways. "Er...what?" she asked breathlessly. A part of her brain registered the fact that Doujou had paused in his sipping.

"Would you care to dance with me?" the man repeated patiently.

"Dance? With you?" Kasahara parroted stupidly, staring outright. _Wait. Dance? With him? _Dance? Not being a common frequenter of dances and never having been a popular partner due to a combination of height, clumsiness and just general lack of popularity, Kasahara couldn't remember the last time someone had asked her to dance. Come to think of it, had anyone ever...?

"Dance?" she said again, stammering, "Well...I-I..." Then, the sound of breaking glass. It took her a moment to realize where it had come from - _her. _In her stupefaction she had inadvertently released her hold on the empty champagne glass, and it had promptly crashed to the floor at her feet - and the feet of her admirer. Oops.

"I'm - I'm so sorry! Really, I'm sorry!" she apologized, panicked. Was there glass on his shoe? His lovely, polished black shoe?

Someone grabbed her arm. "Are you okay?" It was Doujou, gruff yet concerned, making her feel even more humiliated.

"Fine, fine!" she assured him hurriedly, sure that her face was going to burst into flame any second now. "I'll get it. I'm really, really sorry!" She knelt down and began gathering up the glass shards.

"Careful!" Doujou ordered, joining her, as did the man who had requested a dance. She kept her face firmly down, hoping she wouldn't have to meet their eyes any time ever again in this lifetime.

"Did you cut your feet?" Doujou asked, reaching over. She felt his fingers brush her skin; they were warm. It was like an electric shock.

"I'm not cut! Not cut!" she squeaked, edging away rapidly. Things could hardly get any worse - Lieutenant Doujou was intently examining her feet, the man who had so kindly asked her to dance was picking glass off the tips of his shoes, she was stuttering like an idiot, and just about everyone within a ten-metre radius had twisted around to see what was going on.

Kasahara thought she might die right then and there.

A few minutes and an eternity later, the glass had been cleared away, the spectators had lost interest and Kasahara's blush was just beginning to fade. She kept her head down, though, while Doujou and the unnamed gentleman eyed each other, curiosity on one side, resentment on the other.

"So, I assume you refuse my invitation to dance?" the man said. She was so surprised that her head snapped up before she knew what she was doing. His eyes, his conspicuously nice eyes, twinkled with a friendly amusement.

"Y...you still _want _to?" she blurted in total astonishment.

He laughed deeply. "I wouldn't mind. You seem like an extremely interesting partner. And you look very nice tonight."

Taken aback, she seriously considered it. He was a genuinely decent guy. But somehow she couldn't really imagine dancing with him. And that "interesting" comment reminded her a bit too much of Tezuka's frank "you piqued my interest" confession, a memory that still rankled. He smiled questioningly at her, and she found herself smiling shamefacedly back.

"I think it'd be too awkward dancing with you after that," she said honestly. A bit _too _honestly, maybe. She added hastily, "I mean, it was all my fault, obviously, but I'm not a very good dancer anyway and - "

"I understand," he said good-naturedly. "It looks like you might be taken, at any rate." She wondered what he meant, scrutinizing his expression. He didn't seem too let-down, but he wasn't offensively relieved, either. "Anyway, it was nice meeting you." He put his hand out and she readily gave him hers, expecting a shake, but instead he brought it up to his face and kissed her knuckles gently.

She withdrew it quickly, blinking at him, and he smiled again, bowed, and vanished into the crowd. She examined her hand in mild wonder.

Doujou effectively snapped her out of it by stating, "You were very rude, you know."

She gasped in outrage. "Well, excuse me! I didn't ask you to _eavesdrop_!"

He spluttered. "What do you mean, eavesdrop?? I was standing right next to you, how could I help but overhear? Besides, you dropped your glass, so obviously I had to help you clean up your mess!"

She put her hands on her hips, destroying any ladylike illusion her dress might have created, practically steaming. "I didn't ask you to do that, either! You - you just keep _butting in_!"

A vein threatened to pop in his forehead, and he grabbed his tie and tightened it with unnecessary strength, as if he were trying to strangle himself. He closed his eyes, mouth thinning into a line, regaining his composure. Kasahara was breathing hard as well, but she felt somehow better; less mortified, more like herself. This was the sort of banter she'd come to expect every day at work, after all.

"I didn't say I disapproved of your rudeness," Doujou muttered abruptly, scowling slightly. "He was being too forward."

She was taken aback, but not enough so to keep her from mumbling in response, "Like _your _opinion matters, anyway."

"He was right about one thing, though," Doujou said, speaking a little too fast. He seemed to be making an effort to stay casual. "You do...look..." He frowned, struggling with the words, and his voice lowered to an undertone. "...nice...tonight."

Kasahara's jaw dropped all the way down this time. She looked down at herself, up at Doujou, back down at her feet, her dress, patted her hair, and returned her focus to him. "Lieutenant Doujou!" she exclaimed, shocked. "Did you just...did you just...?!"

"Did I just _what_?" he snapped, tense.

"You...you complimented me. On my _looks._"

She stared at him, and for a few moments, he stared back, face unreadable. Then, under her gaze, she saw a faint tinge of pink appear in his cheeks. Doujou was _blushing _- unthinkable! But it was kind of...well, cute. Unnatural yet adorable.

He lowered his eyes, clearing his throat. "Yes. Well, that colour...it's...it suits you."

It was Kasahara's turn to redden, as flattery took over her initial astonishment. "Uh, thank you."

The ensuing silence between them was rather companionable, but at the same time unspeakably discomfiting, both parties out of their depth and tongue-tied after the unusual exchange. Therefore, the only option seemingly available to Kasahara was to declare out of nowhere, "I - I need to use the bathroom! Right now."

Avoiding Doujou's eyes, she spun around, nearly tripping, and dashed off. She didn't stop going, her surroundings a blur, until she was leaning against the wall in an empty, dim hallway, panting. He'd said she looked nice. _Doujou. _She couldn't quite believe it, but her wildly beating heart told her it had really happened.

Pulling herself together, she supposed she might as well look for the bathroom to lend some credibility to her excuse, and she wandered down the hall, looking for doors that seemed promising. There was an arrow and a male/female symbol pointing towards the right, so she took that turn, but she could see only two doors along that corridor, neither of them having any kind of outside mark to indicate a toilet. Deciding to go for the trial-and-error route, foolproof, she shouldered the first door inwards, peering inside.

And promptly clapped both hands to her mouth to stifle a scream.

It wasn't a bathroom - more like a lab of some kind, with long tables, stools and sinks. But that wasn't the issue. The issue was that there were two people already occupying the room. And those people happened to be Shibasaki and Tezuka. And they were _making out. _

There was no other way to describe it. Shibasaki was perched on the edge of one of the tables, her legs straddling Tezuka's waist as he leaned into her, his arms wrapped around her as they kissed passionately, lips locked together, drinking each other in. Her hands were buried in his hair, her eyes closed, her hips swaying as she shifted in his embrace. Thankfully, they weren't making any noise other than an occasional rustling, and thankfully, their clothes were all still on. But then Kasahara saw Shibasaki's fingers begin to fumble daintily with Tezuka's shirt buttons, and she decided that this would be a good time to shut the door.

Traumatized into soundlessness, Kasahara sagged against the wall, trying to erase the image. It stayed stuck to her eyelids, however, and the fact that she knew they were in there still going at it didn't help either. _Oooohhh, man...that was...that was...I shouldn't be trying to think of words to describe what _that _was_.

She had both hands on her head, trying to squeeze out the memory, when a voice broke through her pain. "Kasahara? What are you _doing_? Are you all right?"

"Lieutenant Doujou!" she exclaimed, horrified. She darted a quick, fearful glance at the door, which he didn't miss. "Um...I'm fine...hahahaha..."

"Is there something in there?" he demanded shortly, stepping up to the door, his instinct to get involved in whatever was bothering his subordinate taking over.

Kasahara's eyes widened. "_No. _No, don't - " She lunged forward, getting a hold on Doujou's suit jacket, but it was too late. He opened the door and was greeted by essentially the same scene that Kasahara had been privy to, with a few differences in detail. He drew in a sharp intake of breath, then carefully closed the door, pressing his back against it and controlling his features.

"Ah," he managed stiffly.

Kasahara moaned and banged her forehead against the wall. "Don't. Say. Anything," she begged. "_Please._"

He complied with her wishes for a little while, standing still in the darkened hallway, before suggesting brusquely, "We should get out of here before Komaki comes looking for us."

Kasahara shuddered at the thought. "Yes, let's," she agreed fervently, and Doujou grabbed her hand, leading her with a murmured, "Come on."

The sensation of his rough, hot palm against hers made her forget, briefly, about what she'd just witnessed. He may have been shorter than she was, but his hand was rather bigger than hers. She wasn't sure what to think about that, especially with the way his grip made all sorts of emotions flutter around inside. His back looked very broad from behind.

He stopped at the threshold of the ballroom, but he didn't release her hand. He turned towards her, an unfathomable look in his dark eyes as he looked down at their intertwined fingers. For some reason, she couldn't look away from him as he spoke, a touch of hesitation slowing his words. "Kasahara. Do you want to dance?"

She didn't feel as much shock as she would have believed beforehand; there was surprise, yes, but above that there was a kind of thrill, a warm shiver running down her spine. She opened her mouth to give an excuse, to start babbling away like always, to embarrass herself, and what came out was a soft, "...Okay."

He said nothing, simply put a hand on the small of her back and drew her in close to him. Dancing made their height difference stand out, but Kasahara felt extremely self-conscious in this proximity to Doujou, and it somehow made her feel smaller as well. Her eyes were looking down at his, but there was a kind of blazing equality between their gazes that hadn't been there before. He _was _her superior, after all. Except that right now, it kind of felt as if...well, as if he wasn't Lieutenant, but just _Doujou. _

They began to move, gravitating in slow circles, and it wasn't really very hard. She could hardly feel her feet, anyway; all of her senses were taken up by the myriad of moods and thought fragments swirling in her head and chest as they looked at each other. She must have looked overly serious, because his cheek lifted in a sincere, if slightly lopsided, smile. That smile really suited Doujou; she found herself thinking that he should show it off more often.

"It's too bad you're always busy being so strict," she murmured without meaning to.

His features rearranged themselves into an expression of annoyance. "I'm what?"

"Er, never mind," she was quick to interject nervously.

For a moment she thought he was going to launch into a scolding, but then, to her utmost surprise, he laughed. It wasn't especially loud, but it did have a certain boisterous element to it, deep and solid. "You're really...impossible," he commented.

"What is that supposed to mean, sir?" she asked, but without her usual attacking vim.

"It means that you're a lot less like me than I thought," he said, "and just a lot more like you." His eyes crinkled with his smile.

"Oh," she said distractedly, with an uncertain little laugh, "well, that's good, right?"

"Sometimes it's stupid, or dangerous, or incredibly frustrating," he replied, "but - it's good."

She was wondering, vaguely, whether he was trying to compliment her or insult her, not that it really mattered that much when he was holding her like this, and smiling, and talking in a low, even voice that was so far from the commanding one she was used to, when she bumped shoulders gently with someone. She twisted her neck to spot Shibasaki, dancing in Tezuka's arms right next to them. There could have been no clearer reminder of her earlier adventures, despite their distinct lack of ruffled clothes and messy hair, and she exclaimed, "Eh? You're _fnished _already?"

"Finished what?" Shibasaki asked innocently, giving Kasahara a mildly puzzled look.

"Nothing, nothing," Kasahara blabbed, face bright red. She couldn't believe she'd _said _that! "Ab - absolutely nothing."

"Lieutenant Doujou, are you all right?" Tezuka asked, frowning at his superior officer. "You seem a bit...choked."

"I'm - fine," Doujou said, although he did indeed sound a bit strangled. "Kasahara. Let's sit down." He dragged her back over to the bar, where they took adjacent stools. Doujou promptly put his head in his hands. "Why," he inquired, voice muffled but still strangled-sounding, "did you _ask _that?"

"Er, well...it just kind of...came out," Kasahara replied uncomfortably. "I didn't _mean _to!"

Doujou mumbled something, incoherent but clearly exasperated. Kasahara squirmed, blushing again.

"Ah, Doujou, Kasahara-san." It was Komaki, greeting them genially as he drifted past. "How has the night been so far?"

"Uh..." Kasahara tried, unsure of how to describe it. She swivelled to face Doujou, seeking inspiration.

"Eventful," Doujou summed it up neatly.

"My, sounds like fun," Komaki said with one of his aggravatingly mysterious smiles. He made as if to walk behind Kasahara, then overbalanced slightly and knocked into her ("Oh, I'm sorry - a bit too much to drink, perhaps?"), sending her toppling forward, right into Doujou.

As her lips met his, a rather pleasurable sensation actually, her last coherent thought was, _Hasn't this happened before...?_

Then the dizzying, desiring, heart-racing emotion took over.

* * *

A/N: Yes. Well, that was kind of random. And transition-less. I'm sorry if that just, like, totally ruined the characters for you, lol. But it was fun to write, at any rate.

I used the "-san" stuff, but I wasn't exactly sure what the suffix Kasahara uses for Doujou was (-kyokan or something?), so I just left it as Lieutenant. And I know that Kasahara wears high heels and doesn't seem to have too many problems with them in that episode with Tezuka's older brother, but I've always pictured her as the kind of person who wouldn't be overly comfortable in them, so just discard reality if you can. I'd appreciate it. :P

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. I hope you'll click that pretty review button, too. Or better yet, show your love by writing something for the fandom - we need more Toshokan Sensou fanfiction!


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